


Loves Gonna Live Here

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/M, I suppose I should vague implications of Miloe as well, because it's a favorite, post canon au, vague implications of Marlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: So, what if the entire town tittered about their living arrangements behind their backs?
Relationships: Charlie Matheson & Miles Matheson, Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe, Miles Matheson & Bass Monroe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's time for the yearly Christmas dump of google docs into a dead fandom. Enjoy.

Charlie and Miles are heading home from Amarillo when they see  smoke in the distance.

“War Clan?” Charlie asks, from where she sits on her horse.

Miles peers through the binoculars, before slipping them back into his  saddle bag. “Maybe. Hard to tell this far out, but if it is, Bass and  Blanchard need to know.”

Charlie nods, kicking her horse into motion as she follows her uncle  towards the smoke. 

They’re a few miles out, so they're probably not the only ones that have seen the smoke, and it could be a trap, so they take their time, approaching cautiously.

They find several wagons raided of their contents, items strewn haphazardly across the campsite. However, it’s the bodies that have Charlie turning away, struggling to hold down her breakfast. 

There are three bodies still smoldering in the middle of the campfire, men from the look of it, the stench of burning flesh overwhelming. 

And then are the women. 

They’ve each been brutally violated and left where they lay, eyes still open. “What kind of animal does something like that?” she asks her uncle as she takes deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth thinking back to a night when those women could have been her.

Miles, whose mouth has formed a straight line as he looks over  the carnage, disappears for a moment before returning. “I covered  them up,” he says gruffly, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks,” she nods, putting her hands on her hips as she straightens,  before turning back to the destroyed campsite.

“We should get going before anyone else comes to investigate,” he  decides, moving towards the horses they’ve left tied to a nearby tree.

Charlie is following behind slowly when a cry breaks the silence of  the day. Looking up at Miles, their eyes meet before turning back to  the camp. 

They follow the sound to the last wagon, crouching down to  peer underneath.

They look at each other, back to the wagon and then back again  before Charlie finally speaks up. “What’s that?”

“That, appears to be a baby in a basket,” Miles replies dryly, pushing  to his feet.

“Are you just going to leave it there?” Charlie asks, following him up.

“Do I look like I know anything about babies, Charlie? Isn’t it enough  that I dropped you on your head?” he inquires.

“That explains so much,” she mutters, placing her hand on her hips.  “Well, we can’t just leave her here,” she insists, looking up at him.

Miles scoffs as she turns those baby blues on him, looking away.  “How do you know it’s a girl?”

Charlie bends at the waist, taking another look at the red-faced infant.  “She’s a girl,” she says, with more confidence this time.

“Okay,” Miles responds, gritting his teeth together as she blinks at  him innocently, before rolling her eyes. 

“Miles,” she whines, “what are we going to do with her?”

“Beats me,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not the  one that wants to bring her with us.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Charlie mutters, crawling underneath the  wagon, just far enough to grasp the basket the baby is lying in and  pulling it towards her.

Plopping down on her butt, Charlie lifts the baby out of the basket and  the infant immediately begins to quiet. 

The basket the girl was lying in appears to hold an assortment of baby items, like someone was going to take her and changed their minds, so Charlie instructs Miles to find a bag and see what other kind of baby things he can find.

“Anything else, Princess?” he drawls, watching her bounce the  baby on her shoulder.

Charlie narrows her eyes and swings her leg out, barely missing his  shin.

Miles holds his hands out in surrender, walking away to poke around  in the back of the other wagon as Charlie gets to her feet, smoothing  back the girl’s dark wispy hair. 

“Here,” Miles says, holding out a glass bottle with some type of rubber attached to it.

“What’s that?” Charlie asks.

“Looks like they were using it as a baby bottle,” he explains as the baby  reaches out for it.

“Oh,” she replies, taking it and inspecting it with interest. 

Looking at the baby, the bottle and her canteen hanging off her horse, she makes a decision and places the baby back in the basket and carries her over to the horse, setting her next to her feet. 

Once she figures out how to get the nipple on and off, she fills the  bottle and picking up the baby once again, holds the bottle as she  drinks.

Charlie lets the little girl drink her fill, cooing at her until Miles  suddenly appears by her side. “Found some things” he says, holding  up a few burlap sacks, tying them to her saddle. She watches as he  retrieves a few extra bedrolls and another bag, attaching these to his  own saddle bag.

“Come on, let’s get going. My neck is starting to itch,” he says,  looking around the surrounding area for anything out of the ordinary.  “I want to put as much distance between us and whoever did this as possible.”

Charlie agrees, looking between the baby, the basket, Miles and the  horse. Placing the baby back in the basket, she hands it to Miles, whose face twists in annoyance, before mounting her horse and reaching back for the basket. Balancing it in front of her, she waits for Miles to mount his own horse and they’re on their way.

They’re less than a day onto their trip and this development is going  to set them back by at least a week, Miles thinks as they make yet a  second, unplanned stop to figure out what they have in their rations  that they can feed the baby, which isn’t much, mainly some fruit and  oatmeal, and to change her diaper. They travel further than they plan to that first day, trying to make up lost ground. 

Once they’ve decided on a campsite, Charlie leaves Miles and the  baby staring at each other while she goes to track them down some  dinner. She lucks out and bags a rabbit. She’ll boil some of their  apples for the baby, she decides.

When she returns, Miles has the baby on his lap, helping her to stand  as her little fingers latch on to his. He glares at Charlie, daring her to  say something, but she wisely keeps her mouth shut and sets to work  on their dinner.

Since Miles seems to have things under control in the baby department, Charlie sets about dumping the contents of the sacks out, sorting them into blankets, clothes, cloth for diapers and miscellaneous items. 

She finds an old tin can with a lid that appears to be some kind of dried grain and sets it aside for the morning along with a fresh set of clothes and plenty of cloths, before repacking.

Setting all that aside, she finishes up their dinner and takes the baby back from Miles.

* * *

Watching Charlie as she attempts to feed the baby, Miles finally  speaks up. “You need to think of a name.”

“Excuse me?’ Charlie asks, her head shooting up to look at him.

Miles takes another bite of his rabbit before answering. “We can’t  keep calling her ‘the baby.’”

Charlie frowns. “Dad always said you shouldn’t name things that you  don’t plan on keeping.”

“I think that rule applies to animals, not babies,” he smirks. “Besides,  who else has she got right now?”

Charlie holds the baby up to look at her as she studies her face,  taking a good look at her features. “Amanda’s a pretty name,” she  shrugs.

Miles nods in agreement. “’Cept everyone will call her Mandy.”

Charlie wrinkles her nose with a shudder. “Mandy sounds like  something you or Bass would do. How about Laura?”

This time it’s Miles turn to make a face and shake his head. “This isn’t  Little House on the Prairie,” he says, leaving her confused. “How  about Rory?’

“Rory?” Charlie repeats, looking at the baby with a lopsided smile.  “Rory, I like it,” she announces, kissing the little girl’s cheeks as Miles  watches on with a smile.

They spread out a bedroll next to the fire and tuck plenty of extra  blankets into the basket around little Rory once she’s asleep, setting  her between the bedroll and the fire. 

“Get some sleep,” Miles advises. “Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.” Pulling a flask out of his pocket, he settles against a nearby tree to keep watch.

* * *

They’re five days overdue when they finally ride through Willoughby’s  gates and stop in front of the sheriff's office, Bass tripping through  the doorway when he sees them. “Where the fuck have you been?” he  demands. “I’ve been worried sick.”

Rory whimpers against Charlie’s shoulder, where she’s been  napping, Bass’ shouting causing her to wake. 

Miles frowns, reaching over to pat the little girls bottom. “Keep your pants on, Dickhead.”

“What is that?” Bass asks, pointing to the baby on Charlie’s shoulder.  “She’s not-you weren’t-“ he sputters towards her as Miles dismounts,  tying up his horse.

“Found her,” Charlie answers, putting him out of his misery as she  hands the sleepy girl to him so she can get off her horse. “Parents  were killed.”

“War Clan?” Bass asks, his gaze turning troubled as he looks to  Miles.

“Let’s talk in your office,” Miles suggests with a tilt of his head,  already uncomfortable with the attention they’re drawing.

Bass looks around, giving Miles a sharp nod as they move into his  office.

When Miles moves to take the baby away from him, Bass bats his  hands away. “You’ve already had a turn,” he says, brushing by his  best friend.

Charlie throws Miles an amused smirk as they go into the office and shut the door behind them.

Bass takes a seat behind his desk, propping his booted feet up on the  edge, ignoring the other adults in the room. He coos at the little girl,  making baby noises, telling her he’s going to eat her up as he  blows raspberries on her neck, which makes her giggle.

“What’s her name?” Bass asks, barely looking up as he touches her  cute little nose while making honking noises.

“Rory,” Charlie answers as she crosses her arms over her chest,  suddenly feeling jealous of a baby. “Miles picked it out.”

“Huh,” is all Bass says, looking at Miles before turning  back to the baby. “Rachel has been here every day asking if you’ve  made it back yet,” Bass tells them, finally giving Charlie his attention. 

His eyes rake her from head to toe, looking for anything out of the  ordinary before settling on the breasts that her crossed arms have put  on display.

“We’re fine,” Miles replies with narrowed eyes as he looks over to see  what Bass is staring at. “It just took a little longer with the rugrat.”

“What did you call her?” Charlie asks, not sure if she should be  offended on Rory’s behalf or not.

“You know,” Miles says, looking over at Bass as they begin to banter  names between them, “Rugrat, Curtain Climber, Crumb Snatcher,”  before Miles finally waves it off as she clearly doesn’t get the  reference. “Rachel will have to wait. I want to get Charlie and Rory  settled and then we need to fill you in on what we saw out there,” he  says, looking to Charlie who suddenly finds her boots interesting  causing Miles and Bass to share a look as Rory chews on Bass’  finger.

“I can take care of Charlie and Miss Rory, can’t I?” Bass replies,  starting in on the baby talk again.

“At this rate, nobody’s gonna make it home tonight,” Charlie  grouches, eyeing Bass and the baby. “Miles go home and bathe. You  stink. I’ll send Bass to the market while Rory and I get cleaned up and  we can talk over dinner. Sound good?”

“Alright,” both men grumble as Bass chases Rory’s cheeks with  smacking noises as Charlie takes her away.

Miles steps over, kissing the top of Rory’s head and then Charlie’s.  “See ya in a bit, kiddo,” he says, disappearing out the door.

“What do you want me to pick up?” Bass asks as he pulls on his  jacket, locking up the office behind them as they step out onto the  sidewalk.

“Milk, any kind, that’s the most important thing. Meat if you can  find it. Eggs, fruit, vegetables, bread.”

“Got it,” Bass replies, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I really was  worried about you,” he whispers near her ear. Pulling back, he  strokes her cheek with the back of his finger before heading down the  sidewalk.

* * *

Miles has taken the horses, dropping them off at the livery, so Charlie  begins the walk home, greeting the townspeople that she passes.  Living in a small town has its advantages and disadvantages as she  quickly finds out.

She’s still bathing Rory when the first knock comes. 

Wrapping the girl up in a towel, she discovers Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, from down the street, carrying a larger version of the basket that she had carried Rory home in, only this one is one a stand and has wheels. 

Charlie smiles and welcomes them in. 

They’re still there when Mr. Alverez arrives with a basket of cheeses he’s made from his own goat’s milk.

By the time Bass arrives, she has a large pile of gifts in her living  room and people all over her house. 

“Thank God,” she hisses, pulling him into the house. “I haven’t even been able to finish bathing her,” she says in frustration, imploring him to get these people out of her house.

Guiding her down the hall to the bathroom, he ushers her inside. “I  promise to have them all gone by the time you’re both clean,” he  assures her, closing the door firmly behind him as Mrs. Thompson  tries to follow them in.

When Miles finally arrives for dinner, her house is spotless, her  kitchen is stocked and the empty spare bedroom is now a furnished  nursery.

Bass plates up their dinner as Miles pours them a drink and Charlie  sets Rory in a wooden highchair that Mr. Winters, the town  woodworker, had delivered on his way home.

Settling down to eat, Miles and Charlie fill Bass in on the events  surrounding their discovery of Rory.

He listens intently, asking questions here and there before looking at  Miles as he rubs a finger across his lips. “Is there any reason to  believe that it was a trap for unsuspecting travelers, using the baby as  a lure?”

Miles thinks about it, before shaking his head. “I don’t think so. It had  all the signs of a raiding party. Granted, they took their time with the  women, but it looked like a typical smash and grab, not to mention we  found her our first day out. If Rory was bait, they’ve had over two  weeks to make their move.”

Bass nods in agreement as the conversation turns to Miles trip to  Austin the next week.

Once the baby has been cleaned up and changed, Charlie sits down on  the couch with a bottle of milk, rocking the girl in her arms as Bass  and Miles sit in the chairs across from her talking softly.

When Rory finally loses her battle with sleep, they all head back to her  room, Miles and Bass crouching over the tiny bed, making sure she’s  covered and the blanket that she seems to favor is grasped in her tiny  hand. Miles extinguishes the lamp on the dresser as they reluctantly  leave the room.

“Alright, I’ve got to get home,” Miles tells Charlie. “Your mom’s already mad that I came over for dinner tonight.”

Charlie gives a tired shrug. “Well, if she’d ever pull that stick out of  her ass she’d be welcome for dinner as well.”

“I know,” Miles sighs, pressing a kiss against her forehead before  heading for the door.

Charlie follows, waving goodbye as she turns back to Bass. “You too,  Mister. I’ve been looking forward to sleeping in my bed for days.”

Bass shrugs a shoulders as he backs her up against the wall. “I can  sleep there too,” he says suggestively.

“Bass,” Charlie whines, her head thumping back against the wall, “I’m  too tired to play this game with you tonight,” she sighs as his  hands move to wrap around her waist and he nuzzles at her neck with  his nose.

“Charlie, the only person playing a game here is you,” he says,  pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.

Charlie’s lips part as she studies his face. They’ve been doing this  push and pull, tease and retreat for so long, that at some point the  rules had changed, and she hadn’t realized it.

“I really am tired,” she says softly, looking down to toy with a button  on his shirt, “but you’re welcome to the couch.”

Catching her hand, Bass brings it to his mouth, pressing his lips to  her palm, causing her to tingle in all the right places. “I’ll take it,” he  whispers with a smirk, heading back into the house.

Shutting the door and locking it, she turns to see him perched on  the couch, tugging off his boots. Approaching him, she leans over, ruffling his curls so that they poke up wildly. “Night, Bass.”

“Night, Charlotte,” he replies, his voice turning a bit husky as his  eyes darken.

She peeks in on Rory one last time, before finding her own bed. Her  nerve endings are too keyed up though to let her sleep, so she lays there, staring up at the ceiling until the sound of Bass’ soft snores reaches her ears and she finally gives in, slipping her hand down her panties. 


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie wakes the next morning to the muted sound of men’s voices  and the smell of frying ham. 

She doesn’t remember hearing the baby cry out during the night like she has most nights, so rolling out of bed, that’s her first stop. The bed is empty other than a few blankets and there’s a dirty diaper in the pail next to it. 

She stops by the bathroom next, before padding down the hall to the kitchen to take in the scene before her. Miles and a shirtless Bass are talking softly while Bass fixes breakfast and Miles attempts to feed Rory. 

Walking over to the stove, she reaches for a nearby mug, and pours the coffee Bass has been keeping warm on the back of the stove. Turning, she leans back against the cabinet watching them.

“Good morning, Charlotte. Sleep well,” Bass asks, leaning forward to  pull her first two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around  them.

Turning beet red, Charlie snatches her hand away, moving over to the  table. Taking a seat, she quietly watches Miles and Rory until Bass  sets their plates on the table.

“What are we doing here?” she asks as Bass takes a seat.

“Whad’ya mean?” Miles asks around a piece of ham he’s already  popped into his mouth.

“You, her, us, all of us,” Charlie replies, waving her hands around like  a wild woman. “What are we doing?”

Bass takes a drink of his coffee before setting his cup gently on the  table. “Are you saying you don’t want to keep her?” he asks, eyes  flashing to Miles. 

They’d never considered that Charlie might not want to keep the little girl. They’d just silently decided in his office to tackle this situation like they had every other one. 

Together. 

Guess they should have asked first.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want her,” Charlie replies, watching the  little girl. “I’ve just never thought about being a mother,” she explains,  looking at Miles. “There’s never been a lot time for that kind of thing,  ya know. And even if I did have a baby, I guess I just assumed they’d be  mine and I wouldn’t have to worry about some strangers showing up  one day to take her away from me.”

Miles slides his eyes from Charlie to Bass and back again. “Charlie,  her parents are dead. No one’s going to show up and take her away. If  you want, I can talk to Frank about us formally adopting her.”

“Us?” Charlie questions, tearing her eyes away from the baby to look  at her uncle.

“Yeah, the three of us,” Bass says, looking between the two of them.  “You know, a village and all that.”

Charlie looks at him, before deciding to ignore him for a moment.

“You’re telling me that the two of you want to co-parent a child.  Together. With me.”

Miles shrugs. “It just makes sense if you ask us.”

Of course it does, Charlie thinks with a sigh as she looks between the  two of them. “Explain, please.”

“With what Miles does, he can’t always be here and there are going to  be times that you have to go with him. It’s too dangerous to take Rory  with you, so you’ll need someone here to look after her, someone to  provide stability,” Bass says as Miles picks up his thought.

“I need to know that there’s someone here looking after the two of  you while I’m gone. What if you get sick and can’t care for her, or  worse, what if she gets sick and you need someone to fetch Gene?”

“You can’t leave her home alone when you decide to go hunting  either,” Bass reminds her.

Charlie leans her elbows on the table, covering her face with her  hands as Rory babbles in the silence. “What about Mom?” she finally asks,  dropping her hands.

Miles looks down at his plate before meeting her eyes. “Charlie,  things have been over between your mom and me for a while. She  made it official last night,” he explains, pointing to a couple of bags  laying by the front door.

Charlie reaches over to squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry, Miles.”

Miles shakes his head. “Don’t be. This is best for everyone.”

“Amen to that,” Bass mutters, looking at them unapologetically. 

As Charlie turns to her breakfast, Miles and Bass begin discussing  possible places to live now that they need a bigger house and things she would have never thought of on her own had she been doing this by  herself. 

She can’t quite decide if they wouldn’t have moved in together and raised Rory by themselves if she hadn’t agreed.

“Charlie?” Bass asks, reaching over to stroke her arm. “Are you  alright?”

“Are you?” she replies, turning the question around. She knows  they’re being thrust into the relationship they might have eventually  ended up in anyway, but now there are other people involved

“We’re in a good place,” he says quietly, meeting her eyes as he  reaches out to interlace her fingers with his.

Looking down at their joined hands, she nods, looking over to Miles.  “If Frank can do this for us, I’m in.”

Smiling, Miles reaches over to pull Rory out of her highchair, blowing  raspberries on her belly, while Bass gathers their dirty plates,  bending down to kiss Charlie for the first time. 

It’s not a lustful kiss, leaving her with the urge to yank his clothes off. It’s a comfortable kiss, a familial kiss. A kiss that makes her feel safe and whole and lets her know that they’re doing the right thing. Her eyes follow him into the kitchen as Miles turns towards her.

“You girls get dressed.” he says, handing Rory over. “We’re going to  walk Bass to the office and then we’re going out to Gene’s so he can look her over.”

“Maybe afterwards you can check out some of those houses,” Bass  suggests from where he stands at the sink. “If you find one, we can  fill out the paperwork and you can file it in Austin next week while  you’re there.”

* * *

After Gene gives Rory a clean bill of health and promises to visit as  soon as they’re settled in a new place, Charlie and Miles head out to  look at the list of houses Bass had handed to them when they had  dropped him off this morning.

When Miles points out the first one, a two-story job that she can see  off in the distance, she shakes her head. “Absolutely not,’ she says,  taking the slip of paper away from him. “What’s next?”

“But we haven’t even looked at it!” Miles protests as he wrinkles his  nose, lifting Rory up to sniff her diaper.

“I don’t have to look at it to know we won’t be living in it,” Charlie  replies, looking around to get her bearings.

Miles rolls his eyes, turning towards her with a sigh. “Okay, but why  not?”

Charlie purses her lips together as she points in the direction of the  house. “I’m not going to live in a house where Rory will break her neck  before her first birthday and have you heard Bass’ knees lately? Not  that you’re a spring chicken, yourself.”

Miles gives her a wholly unamused look as he takes the list back from  her. “Fine. Let’s head over to the old Anderson place. It’s a rambler  and hasn’t been empty long. Hopefully it’s still in good shape.”

They poke around the abandoned house, which is something of a  disappointment in Charlie’s opinion, before heading to the next one. It’s another ranch and nothing fancy from the front, but Miles can  already tell the back of the property has been enclosed and his curiosity is piqued. 

When they walk in, Charlie is instantly transported back to her home in  Wisconsin. The living, kitchen and dining areas are combined into one  large space, making the house appear larger than it really is.

There are windows all along the back, looking out into the overgrown  backyard, and she can just make out the remnants of a garden on the side.

It’s far enough out of town that it’s probably got its own well and  septic which are easy enough to convert if they haven’t already been.

There are three bedrooms and a smaller room that might have been  an office at one time, but for now, will make a nice size room for Rory.

“What do you think?” Miles asks as she changes Rory’s diaper.

Handing Rory to him, Charlie takes a final look around as she gets to  her feet. “I like it. It feels like a home.”

“I think so, too,” Miles replies, slinging his free arm around her  shoulders as they head back to town.

They stop back by Charlie’s and make up a lunch basket to take to  Bass’ office.

Bass immediately takes Rory from Miles, tossing her up lightly before  catching her again.

“She pukes, I’m gonna laugh,” Miles threatens as Charlie spreads  their lunch out over Bass desk. Passing the baby off to Charlie, Bass  returns to his chair as they settle down to eat, Charlie feeding Rory  the home canned baby food she’d found in the market on the way  over.

“What did Gene have to say?’ Bass asks between bites of his ham  and egg sandwich.

Charlie and Miles exchange looks, and she gives him a nod. 

“He guesses she’s around four to five months and she’s a little underweight, but he expects that to improve now that we’re home,” Miles replies, relaying the information.

Bass nods. “I got us added to the milk man’s route as  well,” he tells them. “So, no more hiking over to the market for milk.”

“Speaking of milk,” Charlie comments as Rory starts to get fussy,  squirming in her arms. “Pretty sure it’s nap time.” Taking the bottle  Miles hands her, she heads back towards the cells, talking softly to  the baby as she gives her the bottle.

“Found a house,” Miles says as soon as she disappears around the  corner.

Bass lifted a brow in inquiry. “Which one?”

“The Stapleton place.”

“Charlie liked it?”

“Said it looked like home.”

Bass smiles as he begins to clean up his desk. “Thought for sure  she’d like the two-story.”

“Nah, she was too worried about your precious knees,” Miles retorts with  a snort.

With a tilt of his head, Bass pulls a pile of papers out of his desk,  shoving them towards Miles, holding out a pencil.

* * *

When Charlie doesn’t return, Bass makes his way back to the cells  only to discover her laying on a cot with Rory tucked in beside her,  both sleeping peacefully. Smiling softly, he pushes Charlie’s hair back  over her shoulder so the baby won’t be able to pull on it, before heading  back to settle in across from Miles, turning to his correspondence.

There’s a few letters from other sheriffs across the region. Reading  them, he sets them aside, turning his attention to the last one before  silently pushing it across the desk towards Miles. “Looks like it happened again.”

Glancing up from writing his report on Rory’s family, Miles frowns as  he picks up the letter and begins to read.

“Can you write Jeffries back and ask him to meet me in Austin next  week so we can compare notes?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Bass replies.

“And Bass? Not one word of this to Charlie,” Miles says, looking up at  his best friend.

Bass looks at him warily. “Miles? What are you not telling me?”

“They didn’t just rape those women, Bass. They mutilated them.  They-they cut off body parts like they were trophies. There was so  much blood, I’m not sure Charlie even realizes just what was taken.”

Bass blanches at just what exactly Miles is implying. “Jesus,” he  breathes.

* * *

Although Bass’ job is a twenty-four-seven gig, he still finds plenty  of time to help out at their new place, getting it ready to move in to.  They were able to give the inside a fresh coat of whitewash and while  Charlie concentrated on cleaning up the inside, Bass and Miles worked  on the outside. They were very nearly ready to move in by the time  Miles headed to Austin the next week.

While he’s gone, Bass rents a wagon from the livery and they make a trip a day, hauling things out to the new house. 

Not that any of them have a lot, but with only he and Charlie, it takes a few days just to clean out his apartment and care for a baby at the same time. They hope to be completely moved over by the time Miles returns from Austin.

As Charlie unpacks, finding places for all their things, Bass works on  fortifying the place, making double drop bars for all the doors and  rigging the garage doors so they can’t be opened from the outside. He  and Miles also spent the extra diamonds for latches and padlocks  with working keys to secure the house while they’re away. Lumber is  fitted to secure the sliding door to the back yard and Charlie is  reluctantly talked into covering the inside of the windows with chicken wire.

She would argue that this is supposed to be a home for Rory and not  a prison, but she knows better than most just what kind of dangers  there are outside the town gates, and wouldn’t Maggie be proud of  her now. 

She wonders if Rory will balk against them and their rules the way that she had against her father and Maggie’s.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bass asks as he climbs down off a small  step stool, glancing over at her before checking his handy work.

“I was thinking about my step-mother and how horrible I was to her,”  Charlie admits.

“You were a teenager when they got together, right?” Bass asks,  gathering his tools to move to the next room.

“Yeah,” Charlie nods following behind. “I was probably fourteen or fifteen.”

Bass makes a face. “Boys, girls, we were all impossible at that age,” he replies with a shake of his head.

“I know, but I was so horrible to her and all she ever did was love me  back whether I wanted her to or not.”

Bass smiles, looking over his shoulder at her. “You mean like a real  mom?”

Charlie shrugs sadly. “I wouldn’t know.” Turning she leaves the room, leaving him to it.

When he finishes attaching the chicken wire to the front windows he  goes in search of her. 

Rory is in her basket on the cleared off back patio as Charlie uses a couple of pails to wash and rinse out a few soiled diapers. Rory gurgles when he comes into her view, waving her hands wildly at the prospect of being picked up. 

Once she’s in his arms, he turns back towards Charlie. “You shouldn’t worry about it so much,” he comments as he bounces Rory, getting Charlie’s attention.

“About what?” Charlie asks, ringing out the last diaper.

“About being a good parent. She’s going to question every rule we  make. She’s going to talk back. She’s going to sneak out to meet boys  and she’s going to test her boundaries, because that’s what kids do.  Our job is to make sure she knows that this house is her ship in the  storm and that we’ll never let her drown.”

“How did you get so smart?” Charlie asks with a frown, hanging the diapers on the line to dry.

“My mother,” he replies. “I heard her tell my father that after a  particularly ugly argument with my sister. I think Maggie might have  had the same philosophy as well.”

Charlie finishes with her chore and makes her way towards him and  Rory. Smoothing her hand over Rory’s head, Charlie smiles as the  little girl drools down the front of her outfit. “Thanks, Bass,” she says softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek, her lips instead landing on his when he turns his head. It only lasts a moment, but Charlie sighs as they pull apart, her tongue chasing his taste off her lips.

“Ready to head back home?” he asks, anchoring his arm around her  waist, keeping her close.

“Yeah,” she breathes, reaching out to take Rory from him. “Someone’s going to be ready for bed soon.”

“Yes, they are,” Bass murmurs, turning her loose as she heads  inside. 


	3. Chapter 3

They’ve got one night left before Miles gets home and they’re all  settled into their new home. 

Rory’s room is all set up and they’ve managed to find a third bed for Miles. It’s a blackout version, stuffed with straw and feathers, but seems to be comfortable enough.

And, even though nothing has happened between the two of them,  Charlie and Bass have been sharing Charlie's bed since cleaning out his apartment. 

The morning of Miles return, she wakes with Bass hovering over her, tracing his fingers lightly over her features. With a sleepy smile, she cups his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Looking back, she had always thought the first time they got together, would be fast and furious, most likely in a drunken haze, pants dangling off one leg. 

Instead, it’s slow and languid, with soft sighs and punctuated kisses as their skin slides against each other in the chilly morning air while their adopted daughter sleeps down the hall.

When Rory’s early morning demands for attention finally pull them  out of each other’s arms, Bass slips on his jeans and heads for the door  to get the milk from the porch as Charlie moves towards Rory’s room,  changing her diaper and stripping her bed before getting her dressed  and handing her off to Bass who has her bottle ready.

Rory drinks greedily in his arms as Bass makes his way around the  house checking to see if anything was disturbed during the night,  while Charlie sets about getting their breakfast ready, trading once  the baby is done with her bottle like they’re a well-oiled machine and she  wonders, not for the first time, how this is suddenly her life. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Bass comments, as he finishes their breakfast and sets a plate in front of her.

“Shut up,” she huffs as he settles down beside her with his own plate.

“Let me guess,” he speculates while buttering a piece of skillet toast. “You regret having sex with me and you’re trying to find an easy way to let me

down.”

Charlie snorts, flinging her own piece of toast at him, watching as he  calmly picks it up and butters it before laying it back on her plate.

“I don’t plan on telling Miles if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he says,  watching as she feeds Rory, along with herself. “Unless of  course you’re into that sort of thing and then-” he shrugs.

“You don’t think it’s going to be weird? All of us living together and  you and I sleeping together.”

“Miles and I have lived together more than we haven’t,” Bass replies.

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but you weren’t banging his niece, either.”

“Neither was he,” Bass smirks, taking a bite of his toast.

* * *

They’re waiting at the train yard when it pulls into the station, Bass  holding Rory close to his chest, protecting her ears from the  screeching brakes. 

Stepping off the train, Miles scans the area, spotting them before they see him and makes his way towards them, his long, lanky legs eating up the space between.

Hefting his bag up over his shoulder, he throws his arm around  Charlie’s shoulder before reaching out to let Rory grasp his finger and  pull it to her mouth. “How’s my girl?” he coos with a smile as Charlie  rolls her eyes.

“I’m great, thanks for asking,” Charlie replies, looking over at Bass.  “You know, when we first met he wouldn’t even claim me,” she says  dryly, pushing Miles arm off her shoulder with a shake of her head  taking off for town.

She’s waiting for them outside Bass’ office when they finally stroll up,  Rory securely in Miles arms, playing with his necklace.

Bass smacks Charlie on the cheek playfully, unlocking the door as she  and Miles eye each other. 

Once Bass is in his office, Charlie snorts with a smirk and turns to go inside, Miles grinning behind her.

Miles passes Rory to Charlie as he pulls his pack off and digs through it before pulling out some paperwork tossing it onto Bass’ desk. “Say hello to your daughter.”

Charlie’s eyes flash to the paperwork as Bass reaches out to pick it  up, looking it over. “If the neighbors weren’t talking before, they will  be now,” he comments, sliding the paperwork over to the other side  where Charlie stands.

Looking at them, she picks up the paper in which someone has written  “Birth Certificate” across the top in fancy lettering.  The next thing is the baby’s name.  Rory Matheson-Monroe. Then her birth date, which is listed as June 11th. four months before they had found her.  Charlie sees her own name, listed under mother, and beside it, under father, Miles name sits on top of Bass’.  Place of birth is listed as Willoughby, Texas. 

Closing her eyes against the tears forming there, she holds Rory close, pressing a kiss to the hand that’s pressing against her mouth. “Thank you,” she finally manages to get out as Bass and Miles watch her with differing emotions.

“Also got the deed to the house registered,” Miles says, giving her a  moment to compose herself as Bass reaches for the document that has the official seal on it.

“I’ll drop these off at the courthouse later to be filed,” Bass replies, moving them to the side of the desk.

“I need to get going,” Charlie says, picking up Rory’s diaper bag from where Bass had dropped it on his desk. “We have a checkup with Grandpa today. You coming Miles?”

“No,” Miles answers with a shake of his head. “I’ve got some business to  take care of so I’ll head back with Bass later.”

“Okay,” she replies with a nod, leaving the office behind.

Once she’s out the door, Miles grabs the extra chair in the office and flips it around, straddling it as he rubbed a hand over his face.

Bass remains quiet, waiting for his friend to gather his thoughts.

“Blanchard and I met with Sheriff Jeffries. Evidently there’s been a rash of these incidents all along the Northern border.”

“Same scenario?” Bass asks, fiddling with a pencil.

“Yeah,” Miles nods tiredly. “There’s only been one other child left alive.”

“And?” Bass asks as Miles trails off. 

“The people that found the other kid were murdered days after they rescued him.” 

“We’ve had Rory for weeks now.”

Miles shakes his head. “Maybe they’re biding their time,” he replies, confessing his greatest fear as he meets Bass’ eyes.

Which means that moving outside the town gates is the worst thing they could have possibly done.

“We’ve got to tell her,” Bass states. “She’ll never forgive us if we keep this from her. It’s too important.”

Miles sighs. “I know.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Miles. There was no way you could have known. That little girl is better off with us than dead and nobody will dispute that, not even Charlie.”

* * *

When they return home that evening, Miles pauses in the doorway. Charlie’s in the kitchen cooking dinner while Rory babbles contentedly on a blanket in the living room, chewing on her toes in between trying to crawl.

He can tell they’ve gone out of their way to turn this into a home while he’s been gone and the rightness of it takes his breath away. 

He’s brought back to the moment when Bass claps a hand on his shoulder pointing to the old painted lockers on one side of the entryway, greenery flowing down the sides, their names written in paint at the top.

Bass slips his jacket and boots off, putting them in their assigned place and smiles at the baby as he slips around the island making his way to Charlie’s side. The light from the open sliding door turns her hair into a soft golden blonde as the breeze moves it gently around her face. 

  
  


“Hey, your home,” she says softly, offering up her cheek as she slices up  fresh tomatoes and cucumbers as thick slices of venison fry in a skillet on the wood stove. 

  
  


She hears Rory squeal and turns around to see Miles on his back, lifting the girl up into the air and back down to blow raspberries on her neck. 

“Who is that and what have you done with Miles Matheson?” She asks Bass with a smile. 

“It reminds me of when you were a baby,” Bass says, sneaking a slice of  cucumber. “He turned into a marshmallow every time we came to visit. You had him wrapped around your finger. Still do,” he whispers, as Charlie elbows his stomach with a chuckle, before turning back to the stove. 

“Why didn't you send for us? We would have helped you carry all this stuff,” he says, looking at the odds and ends laying around the house.

“Grandpa gave me a ride in the wagon. He was on his way out to the  Fitzsimmons place.”

“How was Rory’s checkup?”

“Good. She’s gained another 3 pounds.”

“That is good,” Bass says, leaning against the counter as he watches  Miles. “It’s only been a few weeks, but I can’t imagine not having her  in our lives.”

Charlie tilts her head, giving him a look, before carrying plates over to  the table.

Once the table is set, they gather round, settling down to dinner as Miles  regales  them with tales of his time in the “big city” as he and Bass jokingly refer to it. 

It’s not till their done and Miles has Rory sitting on his lap gnawing on a cucumber as they each have a small glass of homebrew, that Charlie looks between the two of them. “So what gives?”

Bass waves his glass in Miles direction, directing Charlie's attention to her uncle. 

“There’s been a string of attacks all along the border. The men burned, the women raped, the-the children killed. All except two.”

Charlies eyes flash to Rory. “There’s something else. What is it?”

“The people that found the other child, they were murdered after taking him in.” 

“A little boy? Where is he?” 

“Up in Ardmore. Sheriff Jeffries is looking after him.” 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Bass asks incredulously, earning a frown from both Miles and Charlie. 

“The kids belonged to the travelers, right? Not a war clan or someone just using them as bait?” Charlie asks her uncle as she reaches for her daughter.

Miles looks at Bass before answering. “We don’t know.”

“Well, we have to go get him.” 

“Excuse me?” Miles asks.

“The boy. We have to go get him. We can take the train to Ardmore, spend the night and come back the next day.”

Miles shakes his head. “Why would we do that?”

“That boy could Rory’s brother for all we know. They need to be together.” 

“Charlie,” Bass says gently. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” 

Getting to her feet, Charlie forces him to take Rory. “You tell her that,” she said as she began to clear the table. 

“I guess we’re going to Ardmore,” Bass responds looking over at his friend. 

“Guess so,” Miles replies, taking a sip of his drink.

Xxxxxxx

After getting Miles and Rory settled for the night, Bass joins Charlie in her room, slipping into bed beside her. 

“When do we leave?” she asks. 

“We’ll head up Friday afternoon and come back Saturday morning. I need the time to gather up a few men to deputize.” 

“You don’t have to come with us,” she replies, rolling over towards him. 

“She’s my daughter too, and if you think you’re going without me you’re crazy,” he says matter of factly. 

“Your daughter too, huh?” she  murmurs , scooting closer to him. 

“Yeah,” he huffed, his breath hot against her cheek. “You’re both mine.” 

“Say it again,” Charlie whispers next to his ear before tugging at his lobe with her teeth. 

His chest rumbles as he rolls them over, towering over her. “You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Reaching up, Charlie wraps a hand around the back of his neck, drawing him down to meet her lips.

* * *

Charlie and Miles lock up the house on Friday just before lunch. Holding Rory and her diaper bag, Charlie waits as Miles grabs their shared pack and a lunch basket from the front porch before heading into town to meet Bass at the train station. 

Purchasing their tickets, Bass paces the platform as he waits for his family to arrive. He’s not sure this is the wisest decision they’ve ever made, but regardless of what Miles thinks, he really does understand why she wants to do this. 

He smiles when he sees them approach, taking Rory when she lunges towards him with a squeal, her new tooth, gleaming in the afternoon sun. 

Boarding the train, Charlie takes the seat opposite Miles and Bass, letting them take turns entertaining Rory as they share their lunch. 

She smiles at the sight of Rory settling down against Miles for her afternoon nap, Miles drifting off with her. 

When Bass drifts off as well, lulled to sleep by the train, Charlie chews on a nail as she watches the countryside pass by. She worries if this is the best decision for her family or if she’s diving head first into a situation that could spiral quickly out of control.

“I can hear you thinking all the way over here,” Miles grumbles, cracking one eye open.

Charlie smirks, leaning forward to run a hand over Rory’s chubby thigh. “What if this boy isn’t her brother?”

Miles shrugs. “Doesn’t change the fact that he still needs a home and we have one to give.” He pauses a moment to make a face. “That sounds like something Maggie would’ve said, doesn’t it?”

She gives him a smile that he doesn’t see nearly enough and sits back in her seat. “You better watch out or we’ll make a parent of you yet.”

* * *

They arrive in Ardmore in time for dinner and make their way to the local boarding house, renting two rooms for the night. Dropping off their few belongings, they head downstairs to the dining room for dinner. Sheriff Jeffries would be meeting them here in about an hour. They’d spend the night and return home tomorrow morning. 

They’re having a drink as they linger over their dinner when the Sheriff enters, a teenager behind him with a child on her hip. He sees Bass and they begin to make their way over. 

Charlie instantly knows that this isn’t Rory’s brother, but falls in love with the tow-headed boy irregardless. 

Standing, Charlie smiles at the young girl holding him and takes him when he’s offered, cooing to him softly as the men greet each other and the teen sets the baby’s belongings next to Charlie’s chair and disappears.

“Well, what do you think? Are you interested in taking him?” The Sheriff asks, looking towards Charlie. 

“Yeah, we’ll take him,” Miles says softly as Charlie’s already feeding him what Rory hasn’t finished. 

While Miles walks the Sheriff out, Bass requests that a bucket of hot water and a pitcher of milk be sent up to their room and he and Charlie gather the boys bags and head upstairs with the children.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Bass asks her as they settle on the floor with the babies, pulling out a few toys for them to play with. 

“Yeah, I am,” Charlie smiles, leaning over to kiss him.

* * *

They’re using a cloth to give the babies a quick sponge bath, before getting them ready for bed when Miles enters the room, distracting Rory when she hears his voice. “He’s like a baby whisperer,” Bass mock whispers, getting a flick of Miles fingers to the back of his head for his trouble as he moves into Rory’s eyesight so she’ll quit squirming for her mother. 

“How’s it going?” he asks. 

“Good,” Charlie smiles as she pulls Rory’s pants on and hands her over as Bass finishes with the boy. 

“You haven’t named him yet, have you?” Miles asks in concern as he gives Rory her waiting bottle. 

“Uh uh!” Bass utters, pointing his finger in his friend's direction. “You got to name Rory, It’s my turn!” he declares much to Charlie’s amusement. 

“You’re going to let that happen?” Miles asks Charlie in mock horror.

“Let’s give him a chance and see what he comes up with. Surely he’ll be better at naming a baby than running a country.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Bass grumbles, as he sways on his feet having taken over the job of giving their newest family member his bottle. 

“I’ll take Rory to bed with me,” Miles tells them, heading towards the door. 

“Goodnight,” Charlie replies, kissing both her uncle and her daughter before opening the connecting door between their rooms. Washing up, she changes into her pajamas and turns the bed back before climbing in. Turning the lamp down, she waits for Bass to bring the boy to her. 

When he does, she smooths the little boy’s hair back away from his forehead, soaking in his features. When Bass joins them, he reaches over. cupping her jaw. “You okay?”

Charlie hums with a nod. “Have you thought of a name yet?” 

“Maybe,” Bass hedges, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Charlie lays back with a smile, content in the knowledge that at least for tonight, her family was safe.

* * *

The next morning as they pack up and head downstairs for breakfast, they’re still waiting for Bass to tell them his chosen name. Charlie thinks for sure Miles will choke him over their eggs, but just as Miles narrows his eyes, Bass blurts it out. 

“Quinn.”

Miles is taken aback. Honestly, so is Charlie. She tilts her head, looking at Miles and couldn’t for the life of her find one complaint. Neither can Miles if his scowl is any indication. 

“Quinn Matheson-Monroe,” Miles says out loud, trying it out as he looks down at the boy he’s holding. “Huh. You’re dad did good, kid.” 

Arriving back home, they settle into a routine, with Charlie choosing to stay home with Quinn and Rory instead of working with Miles any longer. 

And the longer that nothing happened, the safer that they all felt.

* * *

Charlie woke to the sound of Quinn squealing in the living room and rolled to a sitting position. Miles had been gone since Monday morning, so it had just been she, Bass and the baby’s for most of the week. Bass hadn’t said anything about going in late, but Charlie didn’t think anything about it. 

Pulling on a pair of threadbare pajama pants, she checked the babies room, discovering it empty before heading to the bathroom. Emerging, she made her way into the living room where she stopped dead at the sight in front of her. Three men, dressed as clansmen, stood in her living room, holding her children. 

“Well, well, there’s the proud mama now,” the older of the men said. 

“Who are you?” Charlie demanded, taking a step forward as Rory reached for her. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man uttered, pulling a knife from the sheath attached to his belt. “These are our younguns, and we’ve come to bring them home.”

“So, you make a habit of abandoning your children at deserted campsites?” Charlie asks, taking a step backwards towards the hall. 

The man gave a casual shrug, running a hand over Rory’s head. “You might call it a hazard of the job,” he replied. “You gave us quite a scare with this little one. Thought we had lost her for good, but imagine our surprise when you arrived to pick up the boy with the girl in tow. Took us a while to find out where you were headed, but here we are.”

Charlie gave a waggle of her head, taking a step backwards. “Well then. I’ll go pack their things and you can be on your way.” 

“Not so fast there little missy. We’ll be taking what we want before we leave, so why don’t you just come over here and have a seat,” he instructs her, waving towards the kitchen table. 

Before she can take a step, however, a knock sounds at the door. 

“Who’s that?” the man asks.

“I don’t know,” Charlie replies. 

“Answer it,” the man orders, coming closer. 

Turning, Charlie walks slowly towards the door, unlocking it. The man reaches out, grasping her bicep as she opens it slightly. 

“Milk delivery, ma’am. Sorry it’s late, my pa was taken ill this morning,” says the young man standing on the porch. 

“Your daddy must have given you our address by mistake, Hershal. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. You tell your mama hello for me now,” Charlie replies with a tight smile, pulling her arm with the hand forward, just by an inch, before closing it in the boy’s face. 

Scurrying back to his wagon, the boy heads towards town, the rest of his route forgotten.

* * *

Locking the door, Charlie yelps as her arm is twisted behind her and she’s pulled into the kitchen before being pushed down in a chair and tied up. Charlie's breath stutters as Rory begins to cry in  earnest , reaching for her. 

“What are their names?” she asks, trying to buy herself more time.

“Got no idea,” the youngest man answers as he sits Rory down on the ground, frustrated with her crying.

Charlie looks between her daughter and the man. “I thought you said they were your kids?”

“They’re ours in so much as we killed their real folks and took em to use as bait,” he cackled, the others chuckling along with him. 

Standing, the man beside her tilted his head at the other two. “Go see what you can find, I’ll get a fire started out back,” he instructed them, stepping out onto the patio as Quinn crawled his way towards her, using her pants to pull himself up, babbling happily.

“Hey, baby,” Charlie whispered as he wobbled unsteadily next to her knee, before falling on his butt. Rory, having quieted down, distracted him and he crawled his way back over to his sister, offering her the toy in his hand. 

Charlie watches as the two younger clansmen ransack her home and the older one starts a fire in the middle of her backyard, her thoughts racing back to the day she and Miles found Rory. 

It seemed like hours, but probably hadn’t been more than a few minutes when the older man returned, and hauling her up out of the chair, drug her outside next to a roaring fire and four stakes. Charlie waits until he’s cut through the rope binding her hands before she fights back. She manages to get in a few good punches before being cuffed on the side of the head. With a cry, she goes flying backwards, landing on her back, the breath knocked out of her. He has her tied spread eagle to the stakes before she can fully breath again.

She struggles as best she can as he straddles her waist and using his knife, slices her shirt and bra up the middle, finally spitting a mouth full of blood and saliva in his face, only to earn herself a stinging backhand. 

“They’re going to kill you, you know that right?” she asks, turning her head to glare at him. 

“Who? Your daddy?” the clansman sneers in her face, nearly touching her nose with his own. 

“You wish,” she snarls back as he traces the side of her breast with his knife. 

“Ain’t no matter who they are. We’ll be done well before they find you.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Charlie replies through gritted teeth as his knife sinks into the side of her breast. Screaming as the knife continues to travel around the sensitive flesh, she sucks in a shuddery, wet breath as the man falls backwards against her legs, an arrow sticking out the center of his throat.

The sound of running feet reaches her ears as Bass and her Grandpa appear by her side. 

“Shit!” Bass  exclaims , looking down at her as he pulls a bandana out of his pocket and presses it against her wound. 

“There’s two more in the house. The kids are in the living room,” she gasps. 

Pulling his dagger out, Bass hands it to Gene. “I’ll be right back,” he tells the older man, laying down Charlie’s crossbow and picking up his gun. 

Disappearing into the house, Gene barely has time to get Charlie cut free when the sound of four gunshots reaches their ears. 

“I thought you said there were only two?” he asks, cutting her top off and tying it across her breasts to stem the flow of blood. 

“Double tap,” Charlie explains, biting back a moan as Gene helps her into the house, where the children are wailing. Setting her on the couch, Gene gathers the kids and brings them to Charlie before disappearing back outside to grab his pack of medical supplies. 

Entering the living room just as Gene is leaving, Bass makes his way to Charlie, picking Quinn up to comfort him as Charlie tries to comfort Rory, who’s now covered in her mother's blood. “I was scared to death when Hershal came to get me,” he whispers, reaching out to cup her cheek. 

“I’ll be alright,” she whispers back, leaning into his palm as Gene reentered the house. 

“Come on sweetheart. Let's get you taken care of.”

Taking Rory, Bass watches as Gene helps Charlie down the hall to the bath.

Holding his children tight, Bass kisses their cheeks, before carrying them into the kitchen and getting them in their highchairs so he can clean them up and feed them. 

By the time Miles comes crashing through the front door, completely out of breath, hours later, Charlie had been sedated against her will so that she would rest. The babies are down for their afternoon nap, and Bass has loaded the dead men into Gene’s wagon, dumped them a few miles away and hired some men to bury them. 

“Go check on’em,” Bass motions tiredly from his place on the couch. 

When Miles returns several minutes later, he slumps tiredly on the couch, accepting a glass of whiskey from Bass. “I haven’t been this scared since the first time I almost lost her,” Miles says with a shaking voice, before taking a drink.

The blood drains from Bass’ face for the second time that day and he refills his glass. 

“Is she going to be alright?” Miles asks. 

“Gene thinks as long as infection doesn’t set in that she should be fine. There might be some problems with nursing should any of us ever...” he shakes his head, his words trailing off as the image of her lying on the ground, bruised and bleeding flashes in front of him once again. 

Downing his drink, Miles leans forward, clasping a hand at the back of Bass’ neck. “Let’s go be with our family,” he murmurs, pulling Bass up with him. He pulls Bass towards him for a moment, then let's go and heads down the hall with a tilt of his head.

Bass slowly follows behind, taking a seat in a chair close to Charlie as Miles stretches out next to the kids who are napping beside their mother. 

Who cares what people in town say about them. This is it. This is their family. Their lives. Their love. And he couldn’t be happier. Taking Charlie’s hand in his, he pulls it to his mouth, pressing a kiss against her knuckles as he and Miles watch over their family. 


End file.
